


Until We Meet Again

by alpacarevolution



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fate, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I'm a slut for angst, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Tragic Romance, regained memory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 15:10:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5590918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpacarevolution/pseuds/alpacarevolution
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders will always love Hawke, no matter how far life drives them apart. But one day, she leaves for Skyhold and never returns. However, in another lifetime, a force much stronger than either of them challenges whether or not he believes true love exists. Perhaps certain things are no coincidence after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until We Meet Again

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, long story short: I'm a slut for angst, I'm handers trash, and the two seem to go hand in hand for me. Basically, this was meant to be a red string of fate thing but then things got out of hand and really sad, so in an attempt to fix it, I made this ending slightly happier than the one I had originally written, and I got this outcome, which is much preferable to the other one. So reincarnation happened. Oh and there's an Emily Dickinson poem at the beginning. Hope you enjoy~ (this story is also featured on my tumblr alpaca-revolution.tumblr.com with several changes but mostly the same)

 

**_That I Always Did Love_ **

 

_ That I always did love _

_ I bring thee proof: _

_ That till I loved _

_ I did not love enough _

 

_ That I shall love alway _

_ I offer thee _

_ That love is life, _

_ And life hath immortality _

 

_ This, dost thou doubt, sweet? _

_ Then I have _

_ Nothing to show _

_ But Calvary  _

 

_ -Emily Dickinson _

  
  


 

“10 years from now, 100 years from now, someone like me will love someone like you, and there will be no templars to tear them apart.” 

 

He pulled her close, burying his face in her hair. “Please, come back to me. Or all of this will have been for nothing.” 

 

She let out a dry laugh, willing herself not to cry, but her glib facade was already broken. “I’m coming back, Anders. I love you.” 

 

With that, she gently kissed his lips, lingering longer than she should have, but she was terrified. She was terrified she had sentenced her friends and loved ones to their deaths. The choice had been too easy: kill Anders or let him live?  _ Let him live _ . Side with the mages or the templars?  _ Mages _ . Run away with the man she loved, even if he was to be hunted, or never speak to him again.  _ I don’t care if you’re going to be hunted Anders, I love you _ . No, it wasn’t hard at all, but it should have been.

The moment the blond haired mage saw that his love still lived, he cried tears of joy. The fight against mage oppression isn’t over, a little voice in the back of his voice cried, but Anders tried his best to ignore it.  _ Let me have this _ , he thought,  _ just let me have this one moment _ . 

In her usual manner, Hawke ran into her lover’s arms. She grabbed his face and pulled him down for a well deserved kiss, not caring who saw the intimate act of affection. When she pulled away, all she could breath was, “I told you I’d come back.” 

* * *

 

Anders was never one for weepy goodbyes, but he could not bear to look at her. His wife was leaving. The Inquisition needs me, she claimed. And it was true, but he begged her not to go. Justice cried out that it was reasonable for her to go, but Anders--not Justice--was selfish. He feared for her life. He feared  that he’d be left alone in the world. She was the only one who had stood by his decisions over the past years, and he was sure she was the only person who would ever love him. 

 

“Must you go?” he asked, his voice low and cracked. 

 

“Yes. The Inquisition needs my knowledge of Corypheus,” she responded. 

 

“What if you don’t come back?” he wondered. 

 

His wife sighed. Leaving Anders was hard enough, but leaving their daughter was even harder. What he was really saying was that he couldn’t fathom the thought of raising their daughter alone. “I will come back.” 

 

He wanted to believe it, but he couldn’t. He knew that there was only a slim possibility of her returning, and it killed him every day she was away. 

* * *

  
  


“Hawke! Stay and cover the rest of us.” 

 

Her stomach dropped and a foul taste had made its way into her mouth. “As you wish, Inquisitor Lavellan.” 

 

She unsheathed her greatsword and charged at the demon. Long after the Inquisitor and her companions had left, the Champion had killed the beast. While she was successful, she was also fatally wounded. Blood gushing from her chest, she kept walking at a wobbly pace until she collapsed into a heap. The spirits and demons around her had heard her desperate cries. They watched as she struggled to breathe. They observed her broken wails yet did nothing to ease her pain. Energy gone, she curled up and cried as she thought of Anders and her daughter. Her beautiful daughter who would have to grow up without her.

 

“I had wished for this so many times. Why must it be now? Why...” 

 

Her cries turned to whispers, then to nothingness. She had wanted to die many times before, but it wasn’t fair she had to die now. It wasn’t fair.

* * *

  
  


“Daddy, look at me!” a shrill voice called out. 

 

Anders smiled to himself as he looked for his daughter. What he saw surprised him. Blue sparks flew from her fingertips. “It’s magic, sweetheart.” 

 

“Where’s Mommy? I wanna show her what I can do!” she giggled, excited about her newfound powers. 

 

His smiled faded and he replied that she wouldn’t be back for some time. And with that, he sent her to go play with their mabari. Hours later, when Bethany was over, someone knocked on the door. He reminded himself not to get his hopes up, but when he saw who it was, his face fell. It looked like an Inquisition scout. 

 

“I was informed that this letter was addressed to you. Good day to you, ser.”

 

With that, he turned on his heel and started towards his horse. The mage looked suspiciously at the envelope, not liking what his instincts told him.  _ Anders, I hate to inform,  _ he read. He just stared blankly at the paper. He’d know that handwriting anywhere. 

 

“Everything alright, Anders?” Bethany asked tentatively, unsure if her brother-in-law received good or ill news. 

 

“Your sister, my wife, she’s...she’s…” he trailed off, not wanting to finish his statement. 

 

“No, no it can’t be....she...why her,” Bethany cried, her broken voice struggled to form the letters to say her sister’s name. Losing Carver had felt like she had lost her other half, but with the help of her older sister and their mother she learned to accept it. When Leandra was killed in cold blood, it was her sister who offered comfort and support. But now that she was gone, it felt like the world was yanked from beneath her feet. 

 

A burst of blue light flooded the room. Bethany cried and wailed for a lost sibling, wanting to disbelieve that she was now the last of her family. Anders’ cry was one that cried out for justice and vengeance. It was so loud that it drowned everything else out. Even his beautiful daughter, who even at a young age, understood the gravity of the situation.

* * *

 

  
  


“Bethany, what exactly am I looking for?” 

 

“Damn it, Fenris!” 

 

The woman picked up bottle after bottle, but she couldn’t find what she was looking for. The man tapped away at his phone and pushed the shopping cart along. It was by chance that he happened to look to his right, in the direction of the woman having a conversation on the phone. Something more ancient than either of them urged him to glance at her, and perhaps it wasn’t by chance at all.

 

He studied her, everything from her hair to her face to her soft-spoken voice. He felt a rush of memories. A war that no one would win. A love so bright that it would continue on long after she was dead. She felt someone was staring at her and she glanced up. She locked eyes with the stranger. Same as he, she felt memories return to her. A fistful of blond hair and her breathy sighs, a goodbye kiss, a daughter with a smile so bright that it rivaled the sun.

 

They dropped every and ran to each other, not caring that there were many public onlookers.    
  


“It’s really you,” he breathed.

 

“Yes Anders, it’s me,” she replied. 

 

“I’ve waited for so long…” 

 

“I still love you. I have loved you since the day I met you till the day I died.” 

  
_ It has been more than 100 years, it has been more than 1000 years, and someone like me still loves someone like you. And there are no templars to tear us apart.  _


End file.
